


A Midnight Dreary

by TantalumCobalt



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:26:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TantalumCobalt/pseuds/TantalumCobalt
Summary: He's in a warehouse, surrounded by blood, Jason Todd's broken body at his feet. But he's not dead yet, there's still time. Tim can defuse the bomb, can save his predecessor's life.And he hesitates.Because if Jason Todd lives, then Batman doesn't need a new Robin. Bruce Wayne doesn't need Tim Drake. Nobody does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse my terrible titling. 
> 
> Idek where this one came from but basically I have a lot of Tim Drake feels and apparently that means torturing myself and him by writing angsty shit like this.

There are only a few clouds splattered across the night sky, but there's an energy in the air, like a thunderstorm is coming. It's almost supernatural, the way the usual smog crackles, ripples of static making dogs bark and cats mewl. Red Robin stands atop the old Wayne Tower, alert for danger even though he can't see anything, nothing to indicate Gotham is more violent or crazy than any other night. It's just a feeling. But if Tim has learnt anything in the years since becoming Batman's sidekick (since being fired as Batman's sidekick), it's that gut feelings should never be ignored.

That's why he's still out here when all the other bats have retreated back to their caves for a few hours sleep before sunup. He slinks across rooftops, across alleys, through abandoned buildings, invisible even in bright red. He glides down to street level when he reaches the warehouse district. Three men stand on a street corner smoking, but it's like they don't even see him. They're arguing about something - a boss, shipments, a guy in a red helmet - but even though Tim is less than a metre away their voices are muffled. Everything is. The city sounds the same as always, but it's distant. Like listening from underwater. Everything is hazy around the edges. He'd thought it was the smog, the energy in the air, but maybe it's him. 

He shakes his head to clear it and ducks inside the closest warehouse.

The world snaps into focus so suddenly it's dizzying. Sound is no longer muffled; he can hear every insect in the air, every creak of wooden beams, every whistle of wind through gaps in the walls. Every gasp and grunt and whimper of pain. There's a sharp tang of blood in the air. Filling his nostrils and sitting heavily on his tongue. Tim glances down - maybe it's his blood, maybe he's been hurt and that's why everything has been so fuzzy. But his suit is intact, no tears, no holes, not even a stain, and he's not in any pain. So somebody else is here, somebody who's hurt.

Gripping his bow-staff tightly, Tim moves through piles of crates to reach the centre of the warehouse floor. There he finds Robin in a pool of blood. Not the current Robin, not Damian, nor the first Robin, _the_  Robin. Not even Steph. No, this is so much worse.

This Robin is Jason Todd.

And in less than three minutes he's going to die.

"Help..." Jason rasps, half-lidded eyes flickering over to Tim. "Please... bomb..."

Of course, Tim thinks, stepping forward to crouch beside the bomb. This is what he's always wanted, right? To stop Jason Todd from dying, to save Batman, save _Bruce_ , by saving Robin. And now he can. He just needs to... to cut that wire there.

( _Why is it this simple? It's not supposed to be this simple_.)

Except... Jason isn't going to stay dead anyway. And if Tim saves him now, what does that mean for him? Bruce will never need him, Batman will never need a new Robin. Tim will never he Timothy Wayne. He'll never have brothers, or a sister. He'll never have his friends.

"Wha... what are you doing?" Jason's voice is near-frantic, strengthened by anger.

"Thinking," Tim replied absently. Calmly. Like he's not wasting precious seconds that he should be using to _save Jason Todd's life_. He reaches into his belt and pulls out wire cutters, setting the blades against the green wire. 

Would Jason do this for him? he wonders. Probably. But not to save Tim, not because he likes him or wants to help him or thinks he deserves to live. No. Jason would cut the wire because he couldn't deal with the looks on Dick and Bruce's faces if he didn't. Or Alfred. Jason would do it so he didn't have to face the butler's crushing disappointment.

( _You think?_ A voice in the back of his mind whispers. _You think they'd really care if you were gone? You think Alfred would really be disappointed? The Red Hood has tried to kill you several times; what punishment did he endure for that?)_

Less than a minute now. Tim looks back down at the broken body beside him. "Please," Jason whispers again. "I don't-" His breath hitches and it's a long second before he draws in a rasping breath. "I don't want t' die." Tears slide down through mud and dirt. And Tim just watches.

The counter hits one.

\--

Tim wakes up. No gasping for breath, no madly beating heart, no uncontrollable tears. He just... opens his eyes and stares blearily into the dimly lit bedroom. Ticking filters in past the fog of sleep and he sits up suddenly. Is that-? Did he not dream-?

His gaze lands on the clock above his bookshelf and he deflates. It's not a bomb. It's just a clock. He's okay.

Except.

Oh god.

He buries his head on his hands, tugging sharply on fistfuls of his hair. Oh god. Jason. He... And he... 

His phone is in his hand before he can think it through, the screen lighting up with an outgoing call to Jason. It rings and rings and rings until Jason's grumpy voice comes over the line and Tim is halfway through a sigh of relief before he realises its voicemail.

_(Why didn't he answer? Is he in trouble? Maybe someone captured him. Maybe he's hurt._

_Maybe he's dead.)_

A sob tears itself from his chest and Tim hurriedly muffles it, choking back more before someone can hear him. Which is just ridiculous because there's nobody around to hear. Just him and an empty apartment. Like it was just him and an empty mansion.

( _Well isn't that an interesting trend..._ The voice sounds a lot like Robin, though which one is hard to pinpoint.  _You'd almost think nobody wanted to be around you._ )

He could vanish and nobody would notice.

Nobody would care.

They might even be better off.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism always appreciated.  
> I also accept prompts on my [tumblr](http://tantalum-cobalt.tumblr.com/).


End file.
